


The Mithril Sister

by WarlockoftheShire



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarf Culture & Customs, F/M, Friendship, Quest of Erebor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlockoftheShire/pseuds/WarlockoftheShire
Summary: Mandelia was a Mithril Sister, given gifts by her Maker to defend and heal her dwarrow kin. When she comes to the surface for the first time in a decade, she and her brother stumble across their old friend Bilbo Baggins on a quest to help a group of dwarrow reclaim one of their lost mountains. Mandelia had sworn oaths to Bilbo Baggins and Mahal, and, by every Sister in the Citadel, she was going to keep them both, dragon or not.
Relationships: Fíli (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	The Mithril Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope this story can brighten your day reading it as it has for me writing it.

Mandelia had just about given up on reconnecting with her brother and finding a place to camp for the night when she came across two dwarrow, looking close to her age. One has his bow notched and the other had a long dagger in his hand, though Mandelia could see the two scabbards strapped to his back. 

Well, she knew Ralisk fairly well. Which meant that her brother, if he had been this way, would have definitely stopped to talk to them, so Mandelia did as well.

She made sure to hail them from a safe enough distance that she could probably dodge an arrow or the dagger if one came heading towards her. 

They looked a bit like startled deer as she approached, but neither utilized their weapons which was good enough. She was thankful, at least, that she was still dressed as nearly an identical replica of Ralisk. A lone dwarrow would be strange but not hard to explain, but she didn't reckon that she wanted to explain why a lone dam was out and about.

"Where are you traveling to?" the blonde one greeted as the brunette asked "What are you doing out in the middle of the forest alone?"

"I'm traveling to visit my brother," Mandelia replied, pitching her voice a bit lower to mimic Ralisk's lower tones. "And lost the one I was traveling there with. I was hoping he stopped to chat with you. He looks like me but uglier."

She got a laugh out of them at least. The two traded a look, and Mandelia knew they were brothers. There were some looks that only siblings could translate. The moment stretched on, bordering on uncomfortable as Mandelia waited for them to finish their unspoken conversation. Finally, though, they turned back to her.

"We haven't seen him," the blonde one said, "but we're traveling with companions, so you're welcome to come rest with us and speak to our leader."

"Much appreciated," Mandelia said, and she was. No doubt her brother would have managed to find the largest group possible to speak with. 

The brothers shared another look, but this time with grins on their faces. 

"Fíli," said the blonde.

"Kíli," said the brunette.

They swept into bows, and finished with an "At your service."

Mandelia snorted in amusement, sweeping into her own bow. "Mandelisk, at yours."

Fíli as he was now named led the way back to their group, as Kíli feel into step beside her. She braced for a arm swinging about her shoulder or some other camaraderie-encouraging movement, but the archer seemed content to amble beside her with some mindless chatter about the forest.

Before they reached the group of dwarrow, however, they came across a hobbit. 

"Bilbo Baggins," Mandelia said surprised.

The hobbit was thinner than she had ever seen him, and farther than any hobbit had probably ever dared to travel besides perhaps his mother. His clothes were fraying at the ends, and his waistcoat was missing a few buttons, leaving it laying a bit crooked. 

Bilbo blinked. "Manny?" He peered up at her, seeming as stunned as she was. Although he seemed to have recognized her without pause, she figured the stunned look was probably more due to it being hard to tell her apart from Ralisk in this appearance. "What on Yavanna's great earth are you doing out in the middle of the forest alone?"

Mandelia crossed her arms, a smile tugging at her mouth. "I could ask you the same, Master Baggins. A dwarrow roaming these woods is one thing, but hobbits aren't hardy for the foothills of mountains, not enough food in these parts for you, I'd wager." He was thinner than the last time she’d seen him, though she had been in the citadel almost exclusively for the past decade, so it was possible her memory wasn’t as true.

He straightened, fixing his waistcoat as he cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I'm on contract. " He nodded at the two dwarrow that had been walking with Mandelia. "We're traveling together."

She had nearly forgotten all about them in her surprise. She really needed to find Ralisk and get their camp set up so she could sleep. "They have good taste then." Mandelia reached out to clasp Bilbo on the shoulder with a warm smile. "Baggins always do what they promise, after all."

Bilbo huffed, looking fairly pleased. "I'm glad you remember." Then he frowned. "That still doesn't explain why you're in the middle of this forest alone."

Mandelia rolled her eyes. "I wasn't alone, well, not until Ralisk and I separated to hunt, and now he's got himself lost. You haven't seen him have you?"

"No I haven't, you don't think the orcs have gotten him, do you?" Bilbo rocked on his feet.

"Orcs?" Mandelia frowned. "We've seen no signs of orcs in these parts." She glanced at the two dwarrow that remained silent, but watched her conversation with Bilbo intently. "You haven't been telling him stories."

The two looked a bit sheepish but the blonde shook his head. Mandelia's eyes caught the beads on his mustache, trying to see if she could figure out the runes on them from this distance. 

"We've had a few scuffles with them," Fíli explained. "They injured several members of our party recently."

"Oh," Bilbo gasped, grabbing onto Mandelia's coat. "Could you heal Thorin? He's the worst off. Does your magic work on other dwarrow?"

Mandelia winced, evaluating the two dwarves who suddenly looked extra interested in her. That wouldn't do. Dwarrow rarely had magic, but it was also her sworn duty to help her kin towards the brightest future that Mahal had intended for his children. It was a thin line to walk outside of the mountains. She settled for a shrug with a vague, "I can certainly see if I can help."

Bilbo began dragging her towards where she assumed the group was before abruptly stopping. "No, we shouldn't leave Ralisk out here to get taken by orcs."

"They'd give him back by dawn," Mandelia said, urging him on. She could feel a rumbling in the stone beneath their feet. There were dwarrow about. Their vibrations echoing to her. "Besides, if I know my brother, he's probably with your company and is becoming fast friends with all of them."

"Sounds like my kind of dwarrow," Kíli said, skipping out on her left side. 

"Unfortunately," Fíli agreed from her right. 

Together the four of them made their way to the campsite their company had set out. Bilbo eagerly updated Mandelia on all the hobbit gossip she had missed out on in the years since her last visit as they approached. He had just reached into the latest gardening competition scandal when Mandelia began to be able to pick up the low tones of men speaking. One in particular stood out.

Sure enough, Ralisk was regaling several of the dwarrow scattered about the campsite with some tale of a battle. It was probably just an exaggeration of some skirmish from his guard duty, but Ralisk always managed to turn the simplest activities into stories for heroes. 

Mandelia clasped Bilbo on the shoulder again. "What did I tell you? If there's anyone to talk to, Ralisk will find them." 

At the sound of her voice, Ralisk spun, greeting her with a cheerful, "Manny! I was just thinking about you."

"Clearly." Mandelia hitched her thumb at Fíli and Kíli who had moved to speak with an older dwarrow sitting propped against a trunk. "I've decided to replace you with them."

The dwarrow around them chuckled as Ralisk faked a fatal injury. "You wound me."

Mandelia turned to the dwarrow wearing a floppy hat as he approached her and Bilbo. "You'd never guess his first craft wasn't in oration."

"Oh aye, some missing potential there. Bofur's the name, lad."

Mandelia bowed. "Mandelisk, at your services."

"Mandelisk?" Bilbo asked, and she quickly elbowed him before he could continue the thought.

Luckily, Ralisk chose that moment to become more observant and saw Bilbo beside her. "Why, if it isn't Master Baggins! You're quite far from home, my friend." Her brother's face and voice shifted to something a bit harder. "Is everything alright?"

"These are my friends," Bilbo said. "I've signed a contract to help them, so here I am." He spread his hands out as if to show the ground.

Ralisk's face warmed up instantly now that the safety of his friend had been confirmed. "Lovely." He turned to Mandelia. “By the way, do you mind helping Master Óin with some healing, Manny? I told them you would.”

“It’s amazing how you find work for me to do, even in the middle of a forest,” she said, but followed his indication to one of the eldest dwarrow in the company. She was content that Ralisk had her back covered in case of the company turning sour, but Bilbo Baggins was a good judge of character, she had found, so her concerns were minimal. 

Besides, she had skills of the Mithril Sisters on her side. Given gifts by Mahal to protect her kin, she wasn’t a harmless clump of sand.

Óin had a dented hearing trumpet but seemed to be able to hear the conversation well enough. Though the keen look he gave her made her think that her close appearance to Ralisk did not fool the healer into thinking she was one of the lads. It didn’t matter much now with Ralisk here, but it was easier for all involved to just have an all male group. Óin didn’t say a word if he did have suspicions. Merely accepted her bow and greeting and brought her over to the older dwarrow by Fíli and Kíli. 

He gave her a kind enough smile when she came over, but there was a wariness of an old warrior. Her father had a similar look about him when he was meeting new people. “Thorin Oakenshield, at your service.”

The name caught her off guard. She blinked for a moment. “Oh.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Mandelisk,” she said, hurrying to correct her misstep. “At your service. Pardon my surprise. I just have heard much of you.”

“Good things, I hope.”

Mandelia smiled. “My father served under your brother. I promise he has only good things to say about you and your line.”

Thorin’s face took on a pensive look, equal parts pain and pride. “That is glad tidings that some remember us well.”

“Truly,” Mandelia agreed, wishing she knew better what comfort to give the leader of the Company, for when Thorin Oakenshield, King Under The Mountain, was present, there would be no other leader. 

Kíli nudged him. “You’re famous, Uncle!”

Thorin and Fíli rolled their eyes almost in sync at the younger’s exuberance, but Mandelia smiled. “My brother and I are at your service, my lord, as would be our father’s honor were he here.”

“What’s this all about?” Another dwarrow asked. His muscles were larger than Mandelia’s head. He was surely a warrior by craft.

“Their father served Frerin,” Thorin explain, wincing as he shifted up. His nephews, as they were now identified, helped him settle in a more comfortable position. 

Ralisk wandered over at that. “What about Adad?”

Mandelia gestured at Thorin. “This is Thorin Oakenshield.”

Ralisk grinned, sweeping into a bow. “At your service.” He grinned at his sister. “Adad would be so proud you’re helping him. Finally, making yourself useful, eh?”

Mandelia rolled her eyes as Ralisk pulled the dwarrow into the story their father had told them for bed time most nights about serving under Prince Frerin.

Óin passed her tonics that smelled familiar, helping get Thorin’s shirt open so that they could get to his bandages. Kíli had moved from his one side, so that Mandelia could take his place. He moved over near the circle of dwarrow Ralisk had amassed in his grand story telling. 

“What’s your craft?” Óin asked gruffly as they began working.

“I serve Mahal,” Mandelia answered, aware of the hovering golden dwarf. Unlike his brother, he ignored her brother in favor of watching her work. He wasn’t necessarily worrying or hovering, just observing and evaluating her in a rather clinical, dissecting way that unsettled her. 

Óin nodded, accepting the answer though the keen look in his eyes hadn’t faded. There weren’t many dwarrow dedicated to their Maker these days, practicality simply wouldn’t allow it. In the older ages of Thror when the kingdoms prospered they could afford it, but nowadays tending to their Maker and his rules was not something that would put food on the table. Mithril sisters were afforded the luxury simply because they lived in the Citadel for the majority of their lives far away from civilizations that would abuse the powers that their maker had blessed them with. 

Mandelia wished she could give her true craft, though she served Mahal as a craft, she was more. She was a Mithril Sister, a dam of Mahal’s army, gifted with the ability to work with mithril, crystals, and the like. She was a runic creator, and proud of it. She manifested. She could have healed his wounds so simply as would be her duty, but for the sake of protection, she settled for helping heal with the tried and true method. If she were serving as the Daughter of one of the mountains, she could afford to expose herself, but not out in the wild where they couldn’t be sure who watched. And despite her assurance in the honorableness of the Line of Durin, she could not be as assured with the rest of this group. 

She dug under her shirt for one of her rings currently residing as pendants. The clear quartz came easy enough, as if it knew it was being called. Óin made a noise of appreciation as she offered it to him. There was a low thrum of magic in him, a seer perhaps, as males were more likely to be. 

He nodded, waving for her to take it back. “A nice piece.”

“My mother’s,” Mandelia offered, slipping the chain off her neck and taking care to not tangle it in her loose hair. She wished she could shed the disguise and wear her hair in it’s normal fashion, pulled back and woven into a braid of braids, with her rings upon her fingers and pendants to rest on her chest. It would be a bit telling though. She had been below in the citadel for more years than usual, Ralisk’s look felt too foreign on her, like a heavy cloak in the summer.

She slipped her ring on to its designated finger, using that hand to apply the salve. She tilted her head down, allowing her hair to curtain her face. The metal of the ring band heated up under her intention. 

A thump and shout arose behind her with a wave of laughter, but Mandelia kept her eyes down at the wound as she worked. It wasn’t much magic imbued in it, certainly nothing near the extent she could work and probably didn’t bother her eyes at all, but better safe than sorry. 

Óin and Thorin were silent beside her. Thorin bearing what was sure to be a great pain with the stoic silence her father had spoke often about in his stories. Óin worked, unwrapping and wrapping the bandages, as Mandelia cleaned the wounds gently with one hand and reapplied the salve with the other. Her clear quartz looked a bit foggier as it did it’s work pulling some of the pain to heal. Not too foggy though. Otherwise it would be rather obvious. 

It truly had been too long if a Sister of her status was struggling so. Mandelia shook her head as she finished, pulling her two dirty hands back, careful not to get any of the salve or water on her clothes.

Óin finished wrapping the bandages, sitting back to survey the job. “You’ve got skills, lad, and I’m grateful for them. Think you and your brother might stick around with us a few days? I’d appreciate the help with this one.”

“Indeed,” Thorin said, shifting with more ease than he had before they started. “I feel better than I have since I obtained these cursed wounds. I would have guessed your craft would be healing with such a touch.”

“To serve Mahal is to heal his people,” Mandelia responded.

“True enough.” Thorin inclined his head. “Óin’s offer stands. We would be happy to have you and your brother join us for a time. In fact, I would discuss the reason for your path and ours if you are amenable. We could use some extra help.”

Mandelia inclined her head, feeling an odd beat of her heart. “I do not mind, though I will have to confer with my brother, as we are traveling to the Iron Hills to visit with some kin.” Her smile twisted a bit. “I have been away for too long due to my craft.” She laughed, albeit a bit sadly. “I’m sorry. I have not been among my fellow dwarrow for a while, and I fear I have lost my social skills.”

Thorin gave her a kind smile as Óin passed her a cloth to wipe her hands off on. “It is no trouble. Besides, it seems as though your brother has enough to make up for any lack on your part.”

This time Mandelia laughed a bit more joyfully. She turned to find Ralisk. “Very true. Though I’m afraid it is a shared trait among my kin. I take a bit more after my mother.”

Her brother was on the other side of the camp. He stood upon an overturned tree, gesturing wildly along to his story. Beside him was a tall man of whom had not been there when they had began their healing. He wore long gray robes and a matching colored hat and leaned upon a large stick. Bilbo stood nearby, rocking upon his large feet and looking merry. 

“Who is that?” Mandelia asked, moving aside to allow Fíli to come to his uncle’s side. 

“Tharkun, a wizard,” Fíli said with a quick flick of his eyes at the wizard. “He’s helpful when he wants to be.”

“And unhelpful when he wants to do that as well, I’d bet.” Mandelia put her ring back on it’s chain and put it back in its place.

Óin took the now soiled cloth from her giving her another nod. He pinned her with a look. “I’d like to talk to you before you go, lad. I think you and I’d have a lot to discuss.”

Mandelia nodded, trying to swallow the feeling that she was being reprimanded for stealing cookies like when she was a child. “Aye, I’m sure we do. I shall, of course…”

“Have to talk to your brother,” Óin finished, chuckling. “So be it. I’ll get this stuff all cleaned up, don’t you worry. Go and talk to your brother. Did an awful lot of distracting for you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Mandelia said, but it was with a kind smile.


End file.
